Epiphany: Gemini
by Zelha
Summary: An exploration of the Gemini Golden Saint's state of mind during his most liberating moment: his death. Gift for Pollux Dioscuros.


Another short thing, this time about Saga's last moments. This can be counted as an 'epilogue of the epilogue' of the fanfic titled _Crónicas Zodiacales, Géminis: Revolución_, by Pollux Dioscuros. Available in Spanish only, I'm afraid.

I dedicate this to Pollux Dioscuros as well, on the occasion of his birthday. Congratulations for turning one year older, Meldir. 8D

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to Kurutroll, sadly.

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**Epiph****any: Gemini**

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The rush of energy consumed him, to his great relief. The humongous amount of Cosmo that all of them had accumulated was so vast that he literally felt his head filling with images, all of them part of a past which had not been mourned or resolved.

Let's say that, while certain ones felt a vibrant emotion in their essences, Saga only felt an immense, absolute sense of respite.

It probably was a cliché, but after being used as part of the Gods' scheme to unleash a war and an attempt to conquer the world, he just couldn't wait any longer to perform his last act of defiance against the Manipulators of the World and go back to his eternal slumber.

The problem was knowing _how long_ he was going to be allowed to rest. Strangely, it seemed like the Gods were having fun using him and raising him from his last resting place to make attempts against the Goddess that was part of his north and his life itself.

It had been rather bizarre, really, being the vessel of the Warrior God. Losing himself in words that pierced his very soul and questioned the real meaning of his mission, he fell into a trap, the simplest and dumbest trap in the book, only to become a mute witness stranded in the deep recesses of his mind, watching a revolution and the loss of Sanctuary's very essence. Far from being a haven, as it had always been, the Sanctuary became a military center of operations, moving away from the horizon that Athena had set and preached. Protect Humankind at all costs...and Love.

The lack of concrete answers, the deliriums of his insecure, wavering heart were the motivations that pushed him to find relief in Ares' words, and due to his confusion, his madness, and his punishment, he paid it with his honor and his very life. That is why Saga could only feel a great relief when he felt the Sacred Staff, Nike, piercing his chest and severing his link with the mad, calculating, ruthless God.

He had attempted against his north, against his very honor and essence as a Saint, _against the Goddess_; he hadn't expected to be brought back, a few years later, to basically be ordered to do the same thing he had done before, this time under Ares' reign. However, the presence of his Master and other comrades in disgrace was the thing that tied him to that inner fiber, making him remember that, even before everything and everyone, he was a Saint of Athena.

Nevertheless, seeing his brother clad in the Cloth that had covered him for more than fourteen years brought terror to his senses, and a harsh torrent of hope to his soul. That rejected, renegade brother of his, the one he had considered a hazard to Athena and to the whole of Mankind, was now one of the few left standing under the Goddess' wings. That evil, twin brother of his that never could be guided through the path of the Cosmos and became a valuable element after his appalling betrayal. This was the path of redemption that the Goddess granted Kanon, Saga figured. In conclusion, he could do nothing but let him go.

In the deepest recesses of his soul, Saga knew, just _knew_ that Kanon would be back to his senses, back to the herd.

The tears flowed unhinged when he witnessed how the beautiful, white skin of the girl that had soothed him in the last moments of his first life tearing apart under the blade of that golden dagger, the same one he had tried to use against her when she was a baby. The scream that blurted out of his soul reverberated through all the corners of Sanctuary. A scream so desperate, so heartbreaking, a scream that proclaimed quite evidently the utter pain he felt for the atrocity he had committed, even if it was something the Goddess herself had requested to be inflicted upon her.

The pain of losing his honor in the Salas' Garden couldn't be compared to the sheer agony of watching the only reason for his existence fade in thousands of stardust grains.

Saga, then, became an avenger. Against the ones that brought him from his grave, against the ones that tried to deviate him from his path once more, against the ones that dared to think that the Goddess could die at his hands without giving them the fight that had been the reason for the many, many preparations since his Master's era.

Shion only had to open his mouth to give them the order to carry on with the charade, to see three brilliant trails of Cosmo scoring through the skies towards revenge and retaliation.

To be quite honest, it had been better that Shura handled the threats against Pandora, from his point of view. The time was running out and they—_he_—didn't want to leave without taking another life, at least, of the ones that were against their—_his_—Goddess.

Because, as Shion reminded them when he was giving out the directives of how to invade their former home and haven, Athena would always be their Goddess, even after their death. It didn't matter how many times he was forced to rise from his eternal slumber, it didn't matter how many times he was being placed against Her; he would always find a way to die at her white feet, in atonement for all he had done, somewhat voluntarily, against the only light that had guided him in his life.

The sun had never felt so scorching when Seiya finally came to his dying side. But he kept repeating himself that everything was for Athena. No matter how despicable everybody thought they were—_he was_—everything was for Athena.

And then he died once more, drowned in both the relief of coming back to oblivion and the worry that came from not knowing the results of this Holy War, the most important of all Wars.

But either way, two glistening tears ran down when he felt that beautiful, glorious Golden Cloth covering his cold body again, still warm from protecting and guarding the body of his brother. Kanon had died as a hero, which was more than he, Saga, had ever expected from him. Even more than he had ever done himself.

His twin had become an honorable and courageous Saint. His heart filled with such filial pride that, maybe for the first time, made him feel the keen regret of never having given a kind word to his brother; never letting him have a clue about the real motive of his mission in Sanctuary that dreaded night, when they faced each other yet again in the Temple of their Guardian Constellation.

But duty called again. Once more, just once more, and then he would turn into stardust.

This was the ultimate sacrifice of his faith. He would die to open up a path to the real battle, the most important battle of all. But it didn't matter. Seiya and the others would do their job like always and they would come out victorious.

And the Goddess would be saved.

Obeying the orders of the Golden Archer without opening his mouth, he could realize that this, just as it was happening, was the right way to go. The way things should have been. It was one thing to be the regent of a place, ruling with an iron fist, and another to be the guide of the army, the first to throw themselves in the fray. This was what separated him from the God that manipulated him for so long. And yet, he had to admit that Aiolos had better leadership skills than him.

And the proof was in the way all the Saints marched together as a single unit, flaring their Cosmos in an Amazing synchrony, an expert Athenian phalange, ready to strike.

The torrent of scorching energy, plus the trust they had placed in those five Bronze Saints so special for Athena, was the reason he felt, in those last moments of his life—his third life—a _liberating relief_.

_This is the time_, he thought, embracing oblivion.

This time he was dying happy.

As it should have been from the beginning.

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_- Tenna' ento lye omenta -_

-XxX-

**A/N:** I want to think that Saga's mental state during the attack to the Wailing Wall was one focused on facing the errors he committed in the past. Saga's personality might seem a little weak and a tad emo, but taking into consideration the last words he addressed to Athena (in honest repentance) and to Seiya (entrusting to him the care and the protection of the Goddess) was what made me think that the Gemini Golden Saint's true nature is a little bit of a pacifist, even with some streaks of pragmatic authority and ruthlessness. It could also be considered, following that order of ideas, that for Saga the end justifies the means, not taking into account the losses that he or the others might endure.

Either way, I hope I didn't massacre his canon character (because I do enjoy writing him in my personal fanon, haha).

Many heartfelt thanks to the wonderful MelissaRose85 for her beta work and thank you guys for reading!


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